


The Wakashû & The Rōnin

by kyoselflove



Category: the GazettE
Genre: 17th Century, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Historical, Blood, Drama, Edo Period, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Japanese Culture, M/M, Minor Character Death, Older Man/Younger Man, Romance, Samurai, Underage Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 22:11:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2126382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyoselflove/pseuds/kyoselflove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The beginning of the Edo Period, Japan, one young samurai breaks the honor of conduct and awaits his cowardly death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wakashû & The Rōnin

**Author's Note:**

> I used many Japanese terms, while some may be obvious some probably aren't, so just hover over the italic word with your cursor for a definition.

> _“Why in the world did ‘the man who loved love’ waste such vast quantities of gold and silver on his myriad of women, when the only pleasure and excitement to be found is in male love?”_  
>  - 井原 西鶴 (Iharha Saikaku), 1687.

One would say this place was beautiful, such a stunning place to die.  The sun was just coming above the horizon, spilling golden rays over the luscious green landscape.  A morning fog settling over the land, only few trees littered the field.  His socks were soaked from the damp ground, white silk stained with earthly tones, and the sandals once underneath his feet long lost in the woods behind him.

Clutching his side, he fell back against the first tree that had come to his vision, slowly sliding to the ground, wincing at the pain in his abdomen.  Lifting his hand off his side, which was covered in his own blood, he inspected the damage.  The cut was large; with every breath he took more blood poured out of the open gash.  He cried out with a whimper as he touched the wound, surely he would bleed out soon.

The thought that he could have died honorably instead of like a coward, hiding away, seeking the shelter of a tree, crossed his mind, causing him to let out a dry laugh.  Placing his hand back over his wound, he tried to add pressure, to allow maybe a few more moments of his regretful existence.

As he played with the moist moss at the foot of the tree with his fingertips, a distraction to stay calm, he began to wonder if this was all worth it.  That he may never know, it would take a good amount of thinking to come up with an answer, time which he did not have.  But giving into the thought, he could have been in a dry home, lying in the warmth of a woman’s embrace, instead he sat here waiting for his untimely death because of one man.  Though it was unfair to blame this on the man because he would never come to love the embrace of a woman.

Again he let out an empty laugh, a man he thought he once loved but now he knew that was not true, well not in the sense of lovers.  If he had loved Kai, as a lover should, then he would have already been dead.  He was assumed to perform _seppuku_ , to keep his honor as a _samurai_.  Kai was his _nenja ,_ a mentor and lover, now he was gone.  A tear slid down his heated cheek, long over due, no longer could he hold it in.  The more he silently cried, the feeling of his being became lighter, his body no longer feeling heavy, the pain in his side numbing.  This was it, the cowardly death that he had chosen.

A rustling of the tall grass to his left made him jerk out of his daze on instinct.  Impulsively he grabbed his _wakizashi_ from his _ obi_, his _katana_ gone from the last battle, lodged into another man’s neck next to where Kai’s body had been abandoned.  Holding the sword in his right hand, while his other still clutched his side desperately, he waited.

Coming to stand in front of him was an older man, with no embroidery of his clan on the cloth of his _hitatare.  _ His hair was short, dark brown rather than black like his own, chopped right below his ears; it waved around his face with strands astray as it was left unkempt.  The man’s eyes were dark, almost black and looked at him sharply.  He could feel his heart skip a beat as he looked at the man, was it because he was dying?  This man was most certainly a _rōnin._

His arm was beginning to fall when his sword became heavier as his vision began to flicker.  The man before him held his _katana_ by his side stained red, he watched as the blood dripped off the blade gradually on to the grass below.  Would this _rōnin _ give him a quick death?  He closed his eyes, leaning against the tree trunk, dropping his sword to the ground.  The chaotic thoughts roaming his mind cleared, as he relived a memory that had happened only hours ago.

They had defeated another clan, Kai was smiling wide showing off his dimples that ornamented his face, a physical trait that he loved.  To celebrate, they went to the _kabuki _ theater in which the night was flourished with sake and laughter.  The other _samurai’s_ betrothed sexually with the young _kabuki _ actors, as they had not engaged in _shudô _ like Kai and himself.  Kai had turned to him, telling him he should have been a _kabuki _ actor instead of a _samurai._ He laughed, and replied, that would be better for Kai so he could take on other male lovers.  Kai’s smile had lessened, the lovely dimples showing no more.  He also added that he was a dreadful singer.

It was only a short time later that night; he lay in bed feeling the gentle caresses from his lover.  The way Kai’s scarred muscles felt under his touch, his sweat slicked skin leaning against his own.  His _kimono _ sticking to his skin, falling off his shoulders as he rode Kai, feeling the man buried deep inside of him.  Afterwards, Kai tickled his ear with his deep voice, sweet assurances, the promise of him never letting go of him even when he comes of age.  He smiled with a genuine laugh and placed his lips on Kai’s, and then they fell asleep in a tight embrace.

When he opened his eyes, no longer did he feel the warmth on his back but instead the excruciating pain in his side.  As he sat up he groaned his head also had an ache.  Taking in his surroundings, he was placed on a thin mat on the ground with a makeshift shelter above him made of twigs and brush.  A wet cloth was on his head, which he took off, sliding it over his tired face, relishing in the feel of the coolness upon his skin.

A movement out of the corner of his eye made him jump back, instantly he cursed out when the throbbing radiated throughout his body.  The _rōnin _ was sitting across from him with a pot set over a bundle of glowing embers as they crackled loudly.  The man shifted his gaze from the flames to him, “Take it easy.”  The voice was rough and coldly authoritative.

He relaxed back onto the mat, not feeling any threat from the other at the moment.  Though he kept his eyes lingering on the man as he brought the pot of water to boil.  Often people thought of him as naïve but in fact he was always just a bit too curious.  “Who are you?”

“Reita.”  The man said with a jarring tone.

Raising his brow in surprise, he decided to risk another question.  “Why?”  He wanted to know why this man would be willing to save a complete stranger on the brink of death while the fields of Japan were plagued with the deceased.

The man, Reita, said nothing as he poured the boiled water into a cup to make tea.  It was then that he realized that he was completely bare, his _kimono_ stripped from him.  Cloth wrapped around his abdomen to keep his wound clean.  A tinge of pink graced his cheeks as he snuggled more into the blanket over him.

A nudge to his uninjured side brought him from his thoughts. “Here.”  Reita had brought him a steaming cup of tea, smelling of ginger.  The scent immediately brought a calm sense of being over him.

“Thank you.”  He said, watching the steam stray away from the cup as he blew the tea to cool.

Reita nodded, then sat back down across from him, the man’s eyes were analyzing him.  Those black eyes were full of lust and despair.  It was what he saw in most of the men that looked at him.  The older men loved his slender, boyish frame, his feminine face reminding them of their wives or past lovers.  Kai had told him once that a boy’s love was pure to that of a women’s, a woman always thinking about her own self than to tend to the needs of a man.  He remembered laughing, telling Kai that he would say anything to have him in his bed which Kai scoffed in reply, saying that it was true; once again showing those adorable dimples.

“What is your name?  How old are you?”

The _rōnin’s _ voice brought him back to the present.  Suddenly he felt tired, he let out a sigh and said wearily, “Uruha, Fourteen.”

“Where is your lord?”  Reita asked as cleaned the crusted blood off his _katana._

Uruha shifted to sit up, ignoring the agony of his wound.  For a moment he wondered where they were, if this little camp was near the dead bodies of his clan.  “Dead.  All of them are dead.”  His voice came out quiet as if sad at their loss, but the fact that he had no where to go troubled him more, poor Kai, even his own lover could no longer mourn for him.  It just occurred to him, now he was a _rōnin_ to be forever shamed. A wakashû no more.

The sun was setting; he pondered how long he had been asleep.  He turned towards Reita, who was looking at his naked chest; the remains of the love making with Kai had left.  Pink blemishes scattered along the pale skin of his neck and chest.  Reita stood up, walked over to him and then sat by his side.

“The one who did this to you.”  Reita said softly, brushing his rough fingertips across the bruised skin of Uruha’s chest.  “Is he dead?”

Uruha let out a moan at the touch, “Yes.”

Reita put a hand on his chest gently pushing him to lie down on the mat.  Uruha felt his heart thudding in his chest, the ache in his stomach replaced with gentle flutters.  Was the _rōnin_ taking his body as payment for saving his life?  The calloused fingertips stayed on his skin, tracing the tender love marks left by Kai.  In this moment, that would be just fine with him.  He felt Reita’s thin lips grazing over his neck causing his breath to stop in anticipation.  Reita lay on his side, stroking Uruha’s raven long unshaven hair that fell against the mat.  “If you died, your beauty would have been wasted.”  The man whispered against his skin, making him shudder.

Uruha gasped, he felt more sensitive to the touches than he ever had before.  Was this why the man saved his life, because of his beauty?  He reached out, touching Reita’s face feeling the rough stubble on his chin.  The man was incredibly handsome, even though his appearance was aged and rugged.

Reita captured his lips, moving sensually amongst them catching him by surprise.  He let out a squeak before pushing back into the man’s firm lips.  The warm blanket was removed from him as the _rōnin_ crawled over his now exposed figure, gently pressing into his body carefully preventing stress on his wound.  Their lips still connected, Uruha teasingly licked Reita’s cracked lips.  It was so quiet that he was sure he could actually hear his heart beating rapidly.

The man pulled away to continue placing kisses along the nape of his neck.  Uruha placed a hand on the back of the other’s head, encouraging him to do as he pleased.  As Reita sucked on his flesh, making marks of his own, his coarse hands roamed over his smooth skin, avoiding the injury down to his thighs.  Uruha let out a loud moan, his breathing picking up, the _rōnin’s_ touch was scorching his skin.

Shouting in the distance could be heard, Reita instantly placing his hand over Uruha’s mouth, both of them stilling all movements.  They listened, again more hollers came, closer this time.  He looked towards the opening of their makeshift shelter to see that nighttime had already fallen upon the land.

Reita pulled his hand away, placing his index finger against his own lips before standing, and grabbing his _katana._ He stood at the opening of their shelter, looking out.  The man came back towards him, handing over the _wakizashi._ Taking the sword in his hand, he sat up, would be such a pity to be saved then slaughtered.

With that Reita left the shelter, leaving him all alone.  This was the one point in his life he felt generally afraid, but not for him, but Reita.  He just met the man, but he feared for his safety and wished he would not end up like Kai.  Reita was over twice his age, full of experience, but even the best _samurai’s_ had fallen in battle.

Uruha’s eyes fell on his crimson stained _kimono,_ which he snatched off the ground trying to put it on hastily.  As he tied his _obi_ he heard the clank of swords with heated snarls near by.  He raised himself off the ground with shaky legs, grimacing at the soreness again but disregarding it there after.

Outside he waited a moment as his eyes adjusted with the darkness of night.  The sounds of battle coming from his right, he cautiously made his way over to the commotion.  The bare soles of his feet silenced the crunch of the grass.  Unsheathing his sword, the reflection of the moon gleaming off its surface, he raised it high, ready for an attack.  As he walked on through the woods, he could barely see Reita up on ahead, fighting three other men.

He picked up the pace moving faster, regrettably making more noise.  A man jumped out behind him, a _katana_ swinging at him, intending for a fatal blow. Dodging out of the way, momentarily his wound forgotten, until the searing pain shot up his stomach, making him stumble.  His left arm was grabbed and twisted behind his back, he screamed out in pain.  He felt the cool edge of a blade against his neck; he closed his eyes, waiting for the end.

The man behind him let out a grunt, the blade on his neck fell to the ground.  Opening his eyes, Reita stood in front of him with a bloody _katana_ and a smirk on his face.  Uruha fell on to the _rōnin_ , strong arms pulling him into a close squeeze.  The smell of blood filled his nostrils as he breathed in Reita’s scent burying his face in the man’s neck.

Movement caught his attention behind Reita, quickly he held him closer, left hand on the back of his shoulder, as shoved his sword into the chest of the man behind Reita.  The enemy fell to the ground gurgling on his own blood before becoming silent.  Reita looked at him wide eyed, then smiled as he pressed their lips together in a raring kiss.

“You should have stayed.”  Reita murmured against his lips.

“Then you would be a dead man.”  He reasoned.

“You distracted me.”  The man said smiling wide with a laugh.

Uruha smiled back, but it faltered, as he felt faint, he slumped on to Reita.  The older man scooped him up into his arms with ease, walking them back to the shelter.  He draped his arms around Reita’s neck and let his eyes close.

The first rays of the morning sun hit his eyes as he opened them slowly, feeling around next to him in a daze.  Reita was holding him loosely asleep; he smiled as he felt the heat from the man.  Once again he lay naked, he was startled to feel Reita’s bare chest against his back.

“Good morning.”  The gruff voice came quietly.

Uruha smiled as he turned to lie on his back looking into the man’s black eyes.  They locked their lips in a gentle kiss; Reita pushed away a loose strand of Uruha’s hair out of his hazel eyes.  “Are you well enough to walk?”

He nodded against Reita’s muscular chest, tracing a long scar right above his nipple.  Uruha sighed in contentment, wishing to stay in their current positions for a while longer.  Unfortunately Reita slipped out of his hold and began packing up his supplies.  Sitting up, he looked over at the man, admiring the view of his little rump.  Then the bare skin was out of view as Reita dressed himself completely.  Turning towards Uruha, he threw an unsoiled grey _kimono_ on his lap.  Uruha felt the fabric beneath his fingertips, it was not silk.

After getting clothed, everything packed; they began the walk to _Edo_.  They avoided the main road, traveling between the trees and vast fields.  Half of the day had already passed when Uruha stopped to sit on a rock to catch his breath. His bare feet were sore from the rough terrain and the wound on his side started to bleed through the cloth.

“How much longer?”  Uruha said despairingly.

“We should arrive before night.”  The man said taking a sip of water from his pack before giving it to Uruha.

Uruha was about to thank him but his stomach churned, a mix of water and bile came from his mouth, spraying the grass in front of him.  Within an instant, his skin became clammy and felt as if it were set on fire.  Reita held him up as he began to slump, his mind becoming fuzzy.

“You have come down with a fever.”  He said as he felt Uruha’s forehead.

He tried to find his voice to give a reply but found that he could not.  Once again the _rōnin_ picked him up as if he weighed nothing and carried him along.  Uruha tried to hold on but he had no strength left in him.

Once he came out of his coma state, he was on a futon in what looked to be at a _ryokan_.   The room was plain; a small table with floor pillows was situated on the other side next to the sliding doors.  Reita came to his side with a cup of what smelled to be ginger tea.  He smiled at the scent and gesture, taking a small sip before putting it aside.

“Are we in Edo?”  His voice was scratchy.

Reita nodded, sitting on the soft floor.  “How do you feel?”

His bowed lips turned up, “Better.  Thank you.”

Feeling the cloth around his abdomen he knew that the other man had changed the bandage, the pain had decreased.  When he looked up, he was met with those black eyes full of desire.  Their lips together again as they pulled each other close.  The smell of blood gone, now replaced with the aroma of sulfur.  Reita sucked on his bottom lip, nipping at it lightly causing him to whimper.

They arranged their bodies in a similar position with Reita over him careful to add no pressure to his wound.  Reita’s lips traveled from his own down his neck, not long after he was showered with kisses all over his body.  Now he was withering underneath this man that he had become so fond of in such a short span of time.  His touches and kisses left his skin feeling burned with pleasure.  He may be a coward, shunned from everyone that looks his way but this moment was all worth it.

Lips were back at his ear as he felt the hot breath caress him, “I have been alone so long.”

Wrapping his arms around Reita’s waist, resting his long legs on the man’s hips, pushing himself at the tip of his erection, he whispered, “Not any longer.”

With nothing more than the spit from his mouth and the fluid leaking from his cock, Reita pressed into him.  Uruha could not help but tense up causing pain to his wound, making him cry out.  Reita whispered in his ear, to relax and breathe, which helped him greatly.

Reita held his hips down as he pushed in deeper, Uruha whimpered, closing his eyes.  Moments passed until he felt slow hard thrusts, then all concept of time was gone from him.  The pace was kept almost unbearably gentle, the pain all over his body long forgotten as waves of pleasure took over him.  He took a hold of Reita’s hand off his hip, bringing it to his neglected erection.  Reita complied giving his hardened length sluggish strokes in time with the thrusts into his body.

Uruha found those addictive lips with his own, colliding clumsily together as Reita’s thrusts became more powerful and desperate.  “Please.”  Uruha moaned, his disregarded wound open again, the blood seeped from the cloth dripping down his body, completely unnoticed.

A groan escaped Reita, as he repeated the words Uruha loved to hear.  “You are so beautiful.”

The strokes on his own cock became quicker; he could already feel his release building inside him ready to burst out at any moment.  A few more tugs on his erection was all it took before he was spilling his seed, mixing in with the blood that now coated them both.  Uruha paid no attention, as he felt better than he ever had in his life.  He could feel Reita fill his insides with his release, making him feel complete.

Reita collapsed on top of him out of breath, the added pressure snapping Uruha away from his high as he cried out in agony.  The _rōnin_ peeled himself off of him, cleaning up the semen and blood off both of their stomachs.  After carefully bandaging his wound, they lay together naked in their bliss, as they were locked into an affectionate embrace.  A place where Uruha always felt he belonged.


End file.
